


from people you know to people you don’t

by bellsrke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Kiss, Love Confessions, The 100 (TV) Season 7 Speculation, anomaly storyline, another void!bellamy fic that no one asked for, implied resolve, s7 spec but most likely canon divergent, void!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24615757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellsrke/pseuds/bellsrke
Summary: "Please, Bellamy. You don’t have to do this,” she manages to choke out through her sobs as she shakes her head.He doesn’t falter, not for one moment. “I don’t think you understand, Clarke. I have to kill you.”
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 111





	from people you know to people you don’t

**Author's Note:**

> loving this fandom’s recent obsession with void!bellamy so i wrote my own version of it which no one asked for except myself because the thought made me a bit giddy. i wrote this in a pretty short amount of time on my phone and it’s un-beta’d so apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> as always i hope you’re all staying safe!! enjoy reading <3
> 
> title from people you know by selena gomez

Clarke feels as if she’s been walking in circles for the past hour. Since arriving on Bardo, all she’s been exposed to are corridors lined with blindingly white walls, almost clinical like they’ve been trapped in some kind of hospital. It feels like a maze as she runs down different pathways, desperate to find just something that might tell her more about Bellamy’s whereabouts. Ever since she had found out that Bellamy wasn’t with the others, she had been beside herself trying to formulate a plan to get him back. As soon as she and the others had made it to Bardo, they had split up in different directions to keep a low profile, but now Clarke just feels lost. She’s almost on the verge of tears as she rounds yet another corner with more obscenely bright walls when she hears the vague muffle of voices up ahead. She quickly ducks behind a wall, trying to make herself as small as possible whilst listening to their conversation. She can see they’re wearing the Disciple suits, and there are two voices, distinctly male but she doesn’t recognise either. She tries to drown out the deafening noise of her heartbeat in her ears.

“Memory alteration is almost complete. It’s taken longer than expected, but he’s right where we want him to be,” she hears one of them say, and her pulse quickens ten fold as she attempts to quiet her breathing.

The second man speaks from beside him as they walk. “He was dead set on leaving at first, something about going to find his sister. Octavia, I believe?” Clarke’s eyes widen at that and she has to keep her feet firmly planted on the floor before she does something stupid like pounce on them with a knife. They’re talking about Bellamy.

“Sounds about right. She’s been dying to get out to find him herself, but we couldn’t let that happen of course,” the first man says, a serious tone laced in his voice. So Octavia’s here too, Clarke deduces, but it’s obvious from the men’s words that Bellamy isn’t aware of that. She’s still hung up on the words ‘memory alteration’ to be totally honest.

When their voices start to become inaudible again, she moves out of her hiding place to follow them, as quietly as she can. She’s not close enough to hear their conversation, but she can pick out odd words, u fortunately not enough to string together a coherent sentence. She sees them turn a corner, but before she can follow them round, she’s met with a blow to the back of her head and her vision tingles and blurs and she can hear muffled noises before it’s pitch black.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been out for when she wakes up, but she finds herself in a bed, looking up at a plain white ceiling. She sits up and immediately the blood rushes to her head, so she thinks she’s imagining things when she sees Bellamy sat in a chair opposite her, elbows braced on his knees as he watches her. He looks different, and Clarke thinks her eyes are being deceived when she notices the lack of facial hair. She rubs her eyes and lets them come back into focus, and she sees Bellamy as clear as anything in front of her, and he’s looking up at her now, an unreadable expression drawn on his face.

“Bellamy,” she says in a light voice. Clarke’s expression morphs into a wide smile as she immediately jumps out of the bed, running over to Bellamy who is now stood up out of his seat. She clings her arms around him in a tight embrace, but he’s as rigid as anything, even when his arms come to awkwardly wrap around her. This isn't like their usual hugs, and Clarke pulls back, suddenly self conscious.

She looks at the expression on his face and it’s strange, almost as if he’s not really there. She continues to speak to him anyway. “I thought I lost you. We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

His mouth is drawn in a hard line and his eyes are almost glazed over. “Well, I’m here,” he says, and his tone isn’t exactly monotonous, but Clarke guesses it’s the closest thing to it.

Clarke frowns at him. There’s clearly something not right here, Bellamy seems off, distant, not like his usual self. “I can see that. Is everything okay?” she asks, feeling small standing so close to him.

She sees his eyes flash for a moment before they go blank again. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” he says, the same hard expression painted on his face. She can tell he’s lying.

She just nods in response, not wanting to push too hard even though it’s clear that something’s not right. “Where are the others? Do they know I’m here?” she changes the subject, hoping to get more of a response out of him.

It doesn’t seem to work though, as his brows furrow on his forehead. “Others?” he repeats to her, as if he has no idea who Clarke is talking about. She’s starting to think that might be the case.

“Raven, Miller, Echo... All of us. We’ve all been looking for you.” She thinks this might get a reaction from him, mentioning their other friends’ names, his girlfriend’s name, but it’s still nothing. She doesn’t understand. She looks down past his face and it’s only then she realises what he’s wearing. It’s some kind of all-white suit of sorts, and he looks like part of a simulation. She starts to look around the room, noticing how bare it is, but she’s caught off guard when Bellamy grasps her hand in his. It should be a familiar feeling, but instead of his usual warm, soft hold, she’s met with a cold, vice-like grip.

Before she can open her mouth to speak, Bellamy opens his. “We need to leave,” he says in the same distant tone as before, and he starts to pull her towards the doorway as an uncomfortable feeling settles in her stomach. She trusts Bellamy Blake with her life, but for some reason she feels like this isn’t him, not at all. She follows him reluctantly though, her heartbeat audible in her ears.

Then she thinks of something that might elicit a reaction from it, and she works up the courage to find her voice again. “Did you know Octavia’s here?” She trails behind him but feels the impact as he stops in his tracks, and when he looks back at her, for a split second she sees emotion flit through his eyes. It disappears quickly though, and he keeps walking forward.

“I think I’d know if my sister was here, Clarke.” The way he spits out her name makes her cringe, like it pains him to say it, and she desperately wants to know what’s wrong.

Clarke thinks it best to remain silent after that, letting Bellamy guide her through the twisting corridors. She’s still inside the same building as before, or at least it seems that way since the walls are the same ones as she had seen previously. Her mind is kind of fuzzy at the edges, and she has no memory of what happened between when she passed out and when she woke up. She doesn’t even know how long she had been out for before seeing Bellamy.

She figures this is a neutral enough question to ask him. “Bellamy?” Her voice is quiet, nervous. She’s never felt so on edge around him before.

“Yes,” he replies. There’s no bite in his voice, but it holds no emotion. This isn’t him.

She sucks in a breath before she continues speaking, carefully choosing her words. “Do you know how long I was out for?” She waits for his response, holding her breath as the continue to make their way through the building.

He looks back at her then, and there’s something else written on his face. Guilt, but it’s gone as quickly as it had arrived. “No. They sent me to collect you a few hours before you woke up.” Again, she can tell he’s lying to her.

A few hours? She assumes she’s been in that room for at least a day then. But who sent him? Where is he taking her? Where are the rest of her friends? Her mind races with unanswered questions as she tries to figure out what the hell is going on.

They reach a door then, and Bellamy opens it and guides them through. She’s hit suddenly with a familiar aura. Earth. But it can’t be, because Eden was destroyed by the Damocles bomb, and she’s meant to be on Bardo. It must be some kind of simulation to fuck with her. Bellamy lets go of her hand for a brief moment, and she takes in her surroundings. Tall, fresh smelling trees, the ground covered in damp soil and moss, leaves rustling in the wind. She can’t enjoy it for long, however, because suddenly Bellamy is behind her, clamping her wrists behind her back and tying them together.

The breath is knocked out of her, and she can’t form the words in her mouth so the only sound she makes is a desperate whimper as tears prick her eyes. Finally, she chokes out a pained “Bellamy,” but he just tugs her by her wrists into his chest.

He lowers his mouth to her ear, and she can feel his breath on her face. She’s felt this before, and in the past it’s calmed her and made her feel safe. Now it makes nerves flood her veins as she desperately tries to control her shaking. “If you struggle, you’ll just make it harder for yourself,” he says, and his voice is so distant, so detached and it hits Clarke deep in her core. Of all the time she’s known him, not once has she ever been afraid of him, but now she fights back the urge to scream and cry, because this is not her Bellamy. This is so far from her Bellamy that she is deeply afraid of what they’ve done to him.

He pushes her forward and they round a patch of trees in the forest and a clearing is exposed with a cabin placed in the middle. They walk over to it and Bellamy pushes the door open with his shoulder, still holding onto Clarke. The cabin is near empty, bar a few wooden chairs and a cupboard pushed into one of the corners.

Bellamy walks them up to one of the chairs. “Sit down.” His voice is stern as he barks the order at her. Clarke does as she’s asked, and he moves behind the chair to tie her wrists to it.

She’s terrified now, of what he might do, especially when he reaches into his pocket to retrieve something. Her eyes widen when she sees the gun he pulls out, tears threatening to escape her eyes. He twists it round in his hand for a moment before pointing it straight at her head, taking a few steps towards her.

She’s fully crying now, but she forces herself to look at him. She’s met with a stony expression. “Please, Bellamy. You don’t have to do this,” she manages to choke out through her sobs as she shakes her head.

He doesn’t falter, not for one moment. “I don’t think you understand, Clarke. I have to kill you.” His arm is still outstretched in a straight line, and everything about the way he’s standing makes Clarke feel uneasy.

She’s going to try to get to the bottom of this, she thinks, forcing the tears to stop. “Why do you have to kill me?” she asks, trying her hardest to match his stoic expression and emotionless tone. His eyebrows draw together then, and she knows she’s placed him in unknown territory. He’s quiet for a moment, opening his mouth to answer but ends up saying nothing. She uses the silence to her advantage. “Why am I here? Who gave you these orders?”

He looks confused, like he doesn’t know how to answer. He shakes his head before speaking again. “It doesn’t matter. I am Bellamy Blake and it is my duty to kill Clarke Griffin.” His voice is almost robotic, and Clarke can tell he’s been fed that line by someone else. These aren’t his words.

“No you don’t Bellamy. I don’t know what they’ve done to you, or what they’ve told you, but I know you. This isn’t you, Bellamy. I can help you,” she says, carefully treading the line.

“You’re a liar. Give me one good reason why I should trust you.” He cocks his head at her, the same terrifyingly cold expression on his face.

She swallows hard, looks down at her lap as she feels a lump form in her throat. She’s kept these words in her mouth for so long now, and it feels strange to say them to someone who’s not really Bellamy, but she reckons it’s her only choice. So she looks up at him, trying to wipe the vulnerability from her face, and she hopes the words are good enough. “Because I love you.”

It’s then that he falters, and for a moment she meets his eyes and she sees him, the real him, and that’s enough for her to know that he’s salvageable. She acts fast then, standing up and turning around to hit him with the chair she’s tied to with as much force as possible. He stumbles back slightly, but his foot gets caught on a loose floorboard and he topples over. Clarke quickly smashes the chair to the ground and it breaks apart along with the ties that bound her wrists together. Before Bellamy can pull himself back up, Clarke picks up one of the broken legs of the chair and hits it into the part of his neck that she knows will knock him out.

He lies limp on the hard floor, and Clarke bends down to check his pulse. It’s still steady, and she breathes a sigh of relief. There’s a wooden beam in the middle of the room, so she drags him by his arms and sits him up against it, hoping to find something to tie him up with. She walks towards the cupboard, opening it to find numerous supplies, including a long, thick piece of rope that she guesses was there for her. She ties his hands behind his back and then winds the rope around his torso so that his back is adjacent to the pillar, his head drooping.

It’s a while before he regains consciousness, and she’s leaning against the opposite wall, facing him as she watches him open his eyes. He tries to move, but quickly realises he can’t because of the restraints and he lets out a grunt. He wriggles incessantly before Clarke gets up and sits beside him, and he turns to face her with a scowl. “Let me go,” he bites, and Clarke has to remain stoic despite his harsh tone.

She shakes her head at him. “You know I can’t do that.” There’s a moment of awkward silence after that, and it’s unfamiliar. Silence has always felt comfortable with him before. “Who did this to you, Bellamy?” She’s desperate time find answers, to help him out of whatever this is.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He doesn’t meet her eyes, but he’s still cold and distant, and it hurts her to see him this way.

She tries asking more questions but his answers remain mostly monosyllabic, so eventually she gives up and pulls herself up off the floor. Before she can get far, though, she hears him speak again. “I don’t— I don’t remember what happened.” She turns around to face him, and he’s looking up at her, confused look on his face. “All I remember is being given the order to kill you, and thinking it made sense.”

She sits on the floor about a foot away from him, draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “They said something about your memory alteration. Do you remember anything about that?”

He shakes his head, and she sighs. She desperately wants to help him, but she doesn’t know how. “Do you know why they want me dead? The people who gave you the order?”

“Because you’re a threat. And you don’t care about anyone but yourself,” he spits, looking at her now with angry eyes. It crushes her soul, hearing those words come out of his mouth when it’s really the opposite. She loves him so much that she’d let herself suffer to see him happy.

Clarke takes a breath before she speaks again. “You don’t mean that.” She’s trying to convince herself as much as she’s trying to convince him. She doesn’t know if her words are ever going to be enough to help him, but that plants an idea in her head. Dangerous, possibly incredibly stupid but there’s a chance it could do something, elicit some sort of reaction from him. Her heart rate picks up as she slides over to him, props herself up by sitting on her knees. She takes his face in her small hands, is met with that same emotionless face that has replaced the normal Bellamy.

She’s terrified, silently questioning what she’s about to do in her head, but before she can second guess it, she presses her lips to his and kisses him. Surprisingly, his lips are still warm, and whilst he doesn’t exactly kiss her back, he doesn’t pull away either. It’s chaste, and it only lasts a few moments before she pulls back, but when she looks back at him he looks stunned. It’s a change from the lack of emotion he’d met her with before. She sits back on her knees and watches him in silence; she can tell his mind is whirring. She doesn’t expect him to say anything.

“I don’t understand,” he says quietly, shaking his head as his eyebrows knit together.

Clarke sucks in a breath. “What don’t you understand?"

“I’m supposed to hate you, I..” he trails off, and he looks at her then. “Why did you do that?”

A silent tear escapes the corner of her eye. “I don’t know,” she lies, hoping he can’t see right through her like he usually does.

“When you kissed me, you- I forgot why I wanted you dead. It felt normal. It’s not supposed to feel like that. Now I can’t think straight.” She can tell he’s struggling, fighting a battle with his mind.

He’s still looking at her, and she can see just the smallest bit of emotion flicker in his eyes. She gives him a weak smile, feeling less defeated than before. “It’s okay, Bellamy, we’ll figure it out. It’s what we always do. It might take time but I can help you.”

She looks into his eyes and for a moment, she sees him again, and something inside her tells her that those words are true. She can help him heal, and she’s never been more convinced of anything in her life, even when the emotion disappears and once again she sees the hard expression on his face. His reaction is all the proof she needs to know that deep down, her Bellamy is still there. And she’s going to get him back.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://bravepricness.tumblr.com/)


End file.
